A Dream of Spring
by FalseGod
Summary: Set after Season 6 Jon is the King in the North, Cersei is Queen of Westeros, Daenerys arrives with an Army and Dragons, Arya ticks people of her list and Bran must return to the source. Its time! Winter has come! Murders will be avenged, Battles fought, Songs sung and a Wedding that will eclipse all. The Nights King is coming. Jon/Dany
1. Jon 1

Jon

Winter has come. For as long as he could remember those words were always spoken in his father's tongue. "The king of the north" for the love of the seven, Jon had no idea how it had come to this. In all honesty, Jon had come to loath this fucking title. He hated how people bowed in his presence, how they carefully chose every words before speaking. It was because of this that Jon spent as much time as he could with the freefolk, they'd sooner shit out gold then call him sir. Tormund was slowly becoming one of his closest friends, "the day I call you "my lord" is the day I let the Night's king rape my fucking skull, you'll always be a baby crow to me" Jon had laughed in response to this, he couldn't even remember the last time he had laughed that much. Truthfully he liked them more, "King of the North" "Bastard" "Lord Snow" none of it fucking mattered, he surrounded by some of the hardest men and women he'd ever met, Jon felt at home.

Jon remembered Sansa's 10th name day, Lady Stark had arranged for a huge banquet with lords and ladies from all over traveling for the special day. Lady Stark, in her eternal wisdom had thought it best that he not be present on that special day. While lords and ladies and the starks had feasted, drank, joked and laughed, Jon had spent the day shovelling horse shit from the stables. Jon had spent the whole day debating whether it was worth the trouble to fill lady Starks pillows with that same shit. He had of course decided against it, father would have been a collateral victim and no doubt would have him punished. But it was Arya who had stayed his hand, she had come running to see him, a leg of lamb in one hand and a beer (no doubt stolen) in the other. God he loved that girl, she had never looked at him like the others did. Once, Arya had slapped a visiting lord's son because he had called Jon a bastard.

Tormund slapped Jon on the back snapping him out of his daze, laughing Tormund grasped a flash and drained it. Wine dripped against his beard 'speak Jon Snow! We are talking of flesh and fucking here!' Jon laughed and ripped the wine from Tormund. Jon considered this for a moment, 'Ygritte! Greatest woman I've ever known' Jon raised a toast at this, the freefolk who knew her did the same. Tormund growled 'Now there was a woman, not like these southern cunts of yours!' One freefolk who was unfamiliar with Ygritte spoke 'did you steal her?' At this Tormund and Jon looked at each other and burst out laughing, wine exploded from Jon's nose and mouth, which caused the freefolk to laugh even harder. Gasping for air, Jon struggled to breath due to the laughter, luckily Tormund answered for him 'The only way this baby crow could have stolen her was if his cock was twice the size of Wun Weg' Jon raised another toast 'to the last of the giants!' this time all the freefolk followed suit.

'My King!' the laughter died down, Jon turned around to see a group of northern lords standing behind him. They all stood there wearing the fucking shiny armour and clasping their shiny fucking swords, 'seven hells' Jon thought, he was even starting to think like the freefolk. Jon and Tormund stood up to meet them 'Lady Sansa and Littefi….I mean Lord Baelish request your presence'. Jon groaned inwardly, the thing he liked most about the freefolk, probably more than anything else. When they said something. They fucking meant it! Jon said his goodbyes and started to leave, Tormund followed next to him, one of the lords decided against this, bad move, Jon thought. The lord spoke with as much authority as he could muster 'It is only the King who is needed' Tormund stood right against the lord so that their noses were almost touching. 'Which King is that?' The baby crow? Or that Bolton fucker? Do you know? How could you? You weren't fucking there' 'How dare you!' The lord in question moved for his sword, however Jon in an instant moved in-between the two. 'That's enough!' The lord instantly looked ashamed of himself, Tormund however was still gripping his knife, had Jon been a second slower, that same knife would have carved this lord up into mush.

After Jon had settled the small dispute, he and Tormund made their way to Winterfell for the meeting. As they passed the hallway a group of ladies giggled at the sight of them, blushing and whispering together. A few years ago this might have sent Jon's blood rushing, now it barely fazed him. Tormund was right, once you've been with a real woman, these pretty girls did little more than annoy him. Jon smiled at the memory of Ygritte "Oh a spider! Save me Jon Snow!" "you rip my pretty silk dress, I'll blacken your eye" The memory caused him a moment of happiness, and then pain flowed over him. Jon doubted he would ever find a woman in the world that could measure up to her. Entering the hall, Sansa and Littlefinger stood waiting for him, their faces stony and unreadable. Sansa looked grim 'We need to talk!' Jon sighed mentally preparing himself for whatever they wanted now. Jon sat down, Tormund however fetched some wine and meat and dumped them on the table, then proceeded to eat loudly. Littlefinger spoke 'perhaps this talk would be better without company' Tormund ignored this and continued ripping apart a chicken. Jon smiled inwardly 'Speak! Tormund represents the Freefolk he's just as welcome here as you are' Littlefinger shared a look at Sansa before continuing 'An entire fleet is approaching' Tormund spat out a bone 'a what?' Sansa clearly looked disgusted at this behaviour 'Peter's sources say that an army from Esso is rapidly approaching'. Jon was puzzled 'So? How does this affect us?' Sansa stepped forward 'You're the Lord of Winterfell, The King in the North! What happens if this army invades?' Jon admitted that this was troubling, Tormund however was less bothered 'So? Let this eastern cunt invade, what does it matter' Jon frowned 'Winter has come! We can't prepare for the dead if we're too busy fighting some other war'. Littlefinger smirked 'My spies have told me that it is Daenerys Targaryen who approaches, the mother of dragons!' Tormund laughed 'This whore gave birth to a dragon?' Littlefinger chose to handle this delicately 'it's a title, but no less true, she has an entire army and three live dragons!'

Jon and Tormund looked at each other, if what they were saying was true this could change everything. Jon drank to give himself time to think 'Dragons?' Sansa could see Jon's thinking 'Jon! What if she attacks, she'll take the throne for herself, she'll take the north!' Jon stamped his fist on the table, shocking Sansa. Jon rose 'let her then! You think being the "King in the North" matters to me? You think the Iron Throne matters to me? The only thing that matters to me is life! The dead are coming! Soon! If what you're saying is true, then this could be what we need to save everyone!'

Sansa looked at Peter, who was clearly deep in thought 'In many cases throughout history, many alliances have been formed through matrimony' Jon was repulsed by this thought, 'I'm not getting married!' 'So you would doom the north to being set ablaze, because you prefer to remain a bachelor?' Tormund gulped down an entire flagon of wine, then spat out a decent amount of it, 'this wine tastes like pigshit! You think this dragon bitch will want to marry you? You're not half the man for the job' Jon laughed 'You take her then!' 'I could steal her, but fuck marriage, that's only for you southern twats' Littlefinger intervened 'Gentleman please there is a lady present, Tormund laughed 'Some Lady! She let her husband get eaten by dogs, now that's more my style' Sansa was unable to hide her repulsion at this 'Jon if we can make an alliance with her then we CAN save everyone!' Tormund grunted 'I'd like to see how those Ice fuckers do against dragon fire'

Jon groaned, as much as he hated it they were right, an army wouldn't do much, Valyrian steel was rare and Dragonglass was difficult to transport, yet alone forge, but Dragons? After much thought Jon concurred 'Fine! Lord Baelish would it be possible to you to offer this Queen an invitation of an alliance?' Peter bowed 'Of course my King, as well as one of matrimony?' Jon cursed 'suggest the alliance first, explain the situation, If she is inclined then I accept' Baelish smirked and made his leave, Sansa looked at Jon, then glared at Tormund, before departing after Littlefinger. Tormund laughed and passed a flagon of wine to Jon 'Cheer up, who's to say she want to marry you?' Jon smiled and drank, "marriage" he thought to himself, Ygritte's words echoed in his mind 'You know nothing Jon Snow'


	2. Aeron 1

Aeron 1

The Damphair had been summoned to The Sea Tower, by far the oldest part of the Pyke castle and seat of House Greyjoy. He looked ahead to see the current king of the Iron Islands, Euron Greyjoy standing on the balcony. The rain was pouring, showering even, no doubt a product of the Drowned Gods rage at the blasphemer being named king. Euron stood gazing at the storm in front of him, without turning he spoke 'Isn't it beautiful brother?' The Damphair took one more step forward, though he dared not take another. Euron turned to face him, his one eye glistened in the darkness, shining like a diamond in the ocean.

Aeron had always hated that about his brother, more than anything else, more than the teasing, more than the torment, more than those midnight visits in his bedchamber. No it was his eyes, Aeron had studied people's eyes, a small hobby of his when not praying to the drowned god. Aeron had discovered that people's eyes moved whenever they showed emotion. When they were happy or aroused, the pupils opened. When a person was angry or afraid they closed. But not Euron's. His pupils stayed fixed, two little dots of blackness transfixed in one point. Eyes that had travelled into the depths of darkness, the type of places that made the gods themselves shiver at the thought. Eyes that had seen it all, and wasn't impressed.

'I was thinking brother. Can we fly?' Aeron hesitated, wondering where he was going with this. Euron smirked 'Well what do you think?' Despite everything, Euron was still his king 'No! We can't!' Euron clapped his hands at this and smiled devilishly 'And that's just it! How do we know? Perhaps we can fly. All of us. How will we ever know unless we leap from some tall tower? No man ever truly knows what he can do unless he dares to leap' Aeron could hear his heartbeat pound against his chest 'Why don't you jump then?' Euron grinned 'I have brother, from this very tower, many years ago. The world gave me nothing, the people around me, I felt nothing, I kept thinking, why is everyone like this, why can't people just think? Why can't they see? They're just so….boring. So I leapt, and I flew, for those few moments, I flew brother, I survived. It's just like all those speeches you've been giving your entire life, "what is dead may never die" now it's your turn' Euron grabbed his brother "What is dead may never die" Aeron gazed into his brothers eye, his single unmoving pupil. Almost instinctively he replied "But rises again harder and stronger"

And with that Euron kissed his brother on the lips and then flung Aeron of the top of the balcony. Euron watched as his brother smashed against the rocks, slowly his lips curved upwards, a twisted smile crept along his face. 'huh' thought Euron, 'I guess he couldn't fly after all'. The smile stayed on his lips, he enjoyed the feeling of rain dripping down his face. 'I wonder' he thought, 'Daenerys, Mother of Dragons, will you fly? Or will sink just like all the rest?


	3. Daenerys 1

Daenerys 1

Land was in sight. It had been so long but she was finally back. Westeros. Her homeland. The feeling had already begun to worm its way into her mind. What if this was all for nothing? What if they were making a mistake? What if they lost? "No" she told herself, "she had an army, she had dragons, and her advisors. Tyrion Lannister, she respected him, trusted him even. A man who, if she listened to all the stories, she should have been predisposed to hate. But there he was, standing at the mast gazing out into the sea. A memory flickered in the back of her mind.

It was before they had set sail. Tyrion had been true to his nature, either drinking or reading, occasionally in the company of cutthroats and thieves. But this time was different, the small man was sitting against a wall. Empty cups of wine surrounded him, though none of it spilt. On his lap sat a large book, though he was not paying attention to it. No! He seemed to be in a world of his own, a small smile on his face. He was singing?

"Faintly…Dragons roar. To take this…. Heavy Crown! Soon I'm coming down! Lost but never found! Waiting for my words…seen but never heard. Tears fall...oooooooh dragons caalllll, But I'll keep coming down"

He stopped when he noticed her presence, Dany smirked, Tyrion seemed to be the only one capable of making her smile recently. She briefly considered sitting next to him but thought against it, not very dignified for a queen and soon to be conqueror. Though she had to admit the song wasn't half bad. Tyrion rose and walked to fetch himself another flagon of wine. Dany spoke 'that was a nice song' Tyrion smiled to himself 'When I was a child it was one of my favourite songs, though my father punished me for it "Lannister's don't act like fool! Lannister's don't sing like common bards" What a cunt' Dany allowed herself a small chuckle at this unapologetic critique of his family. Dany was always impressed by how drunk Tyrion could get and yet still be smarter than more people than she could name. 'Where did you hear that song?' Dany asked mildly curious, no doubt trying to distract herself from the upcoming invasion. However, she was surprised by Tyrion's response, for some reason he looked slightly ashamed of himself. Tyrion gazed into her eyes and spoke in a remorseful tone 'From your brother' Dany was shocked 'Rhaegar?' Tyrion nodded 'they very same'

Daenerys was puzzled, Barristan Selmy had told her that Rhaegar was a talented singer, but she had no idea that her newly titled hand of the queen was aquatinted with her older brother. Truthfully she loved hearing stories about Rhaegar, after witnessing all the pain in the world Dany had often comforted herself with those stories. Dany pushed further 'You knew Rhaegar?' At this Tyrion laughed into his drink 'Ha about as well as I know the gods, which is funny because he was probably the closest thing to one' Dany scoffed, 'I think you've had a bit too much to drink' Tyrion bowed mockingly 'That I have but about Rhaegar I speak only truth' Dany was sceptical, she knew her brother was a great man, but godlike was pushing it. Tyrion seemed to notice this 'You don't believe me?' 'Well it's a bit hard to believe' Tyrion stopped moving and gazed at her, then he smiled, he knew he had her. Tyrion laughed 'would my queen like to hear my tale of Rhaegar?' Dany grinned 'do I need to demand it? Tyrion grinned as well 'then listen well my Queen for my story is one of wonder'

Dany sat down, pouring herself a glass of wine, eager for Tyrion to tell his story. Tyrion began 'It was on my 7th name day, before the rebellion, before everything. My beloved family took a trip to Kings Landing, father apparently had some business to tend to. Then, as we made our way up to the castle all of the carriages suddenly stopped.'

Tyrion paused to drink, Dany was aware that he was dragging the story out but could not help but pay fanatical like attention to his every word. Tyrion continued 'Next thing I see, my cunt of a sister exits the carriage and starts sprinting to a crowd of people. Father was furious and followed after her. The possibility of him beating her was too sweet to pass up so I followed after. And then we saw him.'

Dany smiled 'Even your sister wanted to see him?' Tyrion laughed 'Rhaegar Targaryen? Everyone wanted to see him! I've heard that my brother was the handsomest man in all the seven kingdoms, but next to Rhaegar, he and I may as well have been equals. There he was, wearing nothing but rags, sitting down on the mud, singing, with two of the kingsguard standing on either side of him' Dany pushed 'and he was singing that song?' 'yes he was, though I think my rendition was better' Dany looked at him doubtfully, Tyrion laughed when he saw this 'It surely was a sight to behold, every woman in the crowd was weeping waterfalls, I doubt there was a woman alive that wouldn't do anything just so he would look at them'

Dany was suddenly reminded of what Mormont had said to her 'but he died anyway' Tyrion nodded 'he did, maybe he was too good for this world, I think you might be better, you may not be as pretty, or smart, or strong, or even talented' Dany knew he was teasing, but still…'Excuse me!' Tyrion nodded, perhaps he was getting to comfortable 'but despite all that, I think Rhaegar looked at the world, the way it could be, but you my Queen, you see the world as it is! A handy skill when it comes time to take the Iron Throne'

Suddenly a huge wave smashed against the shit, snapping Dany out of her memory, Tyrion approached her 'We've arrived my Queen' Daenerys Targaryen looked at the land before her, then up into the sky where her dragons were circling. It was time. Dany took a deep breath. Then, curiously? Her breath could be seen as she exhaled. For the first time for as long as she could remember, she was cold? Tyrion shivered as well, 'Winter has come!' Dany looked at him puzzled 'What?' 'Starks are always right, eventually' She realized that he was merely quoting a phrase, but she saw a sound piece of logic. 'Winter has come' So who better to ally yourself with then someone who knows winter better than anyone. Turning to Tyrion she said 'The North! We'll start there!'

Hey guys I'm glad your all liking the story! Would love for you guys to review let me know what you all think!


	4. Cersei 1

Cersei 1

Cersei sat on the Iron Throne. 'It was cold' was her first thought, after years of being the polished by old imbeciles and drunkards she had assumed it would be warm. The throne room was completely empty, but for the monstrous creature that was once Ser Gregor. 'good' she thought, the first ever Queen of Westeros has no need for stupid birds and pathetic sycophants. All she needed was Jamie. They had been together from the beginning; this was how it always should have been. 'ouch?' clutching her chest as a pain shot through her system. Poison? No? No this was something else. Something different.

'The king is dead, long live the Queen'

Jamie had entered the throne room; it took a while for him to approach her. His every footstep echoed throughout the chamber. Despite everything he was still as dashing as ever, his golden locks, his muscular physique, his iron jaw, he was everything that a man should be. But, the man who occupied her every thought was another. A younger, sweet, kind face. Cersei scowled 'do you think me a monster?' Jamie held her gaze 'No, I think you a Queen' 'There was no way I could have known' 'He was your son!' Jamie replied, raising his voice 'You could see he was in love with the Tyrell girl and yet you left him alone with a monster' Cersei turned to look at The Mountain, he remained silent despite everything. 'I couldn't have known' 'BULLSHIT!' Jamie shouted, his voice vibrated throughout the chamber. Cersei was taken aback, Ser Gregor took steps forward, he now stood in between Cersei and Jamie. Jamie was clearly angry 'what now? What do we do now?'

Cersei rose 'He was my son!' Jamie shouted back 'He was mine too!' Cersei stopped and sank to the floor, 'Leave us!' she commanded Gregor. The beast glanced at the two of them, before bowing and exiting the room, his every step crashing against the marble. Jamie moved and sat down next to her 'what's wrong?' Cersei looked at Jamie's eyes, tears were falling from her face, barely able to get a word out she croaked 'My children are dead' Jamie saw her pain, and held her tightly in his arms. Cersei sunk into his arms, 'it hurts Jamie, no matter what I do, no matter how much I drink, the pain won't go away' Jamie did the only thing he could think of which was to hold her. Cersei wept into his arms, tears fell like rain from her eyes.

'My son is dead and it's all my fault.' Cersei was shaking 'everyone hates me, they think I'll be worse than the mad king, the first ever Queen, Mad Queen Cersei' Her voice cracked due to the pain and fear 'and then you're going to kill me just like you did Aerys' Jamie was shocked by this. Gripping her Jamie forcefully spoke 'I will never harm you, I love you! All we need is each other' Cersei laughed 'I'm going to kill them all, the Tyrells, the Starks, the Martells, I want them to feel what I feel' Jamie grabbed her 'We'll do it together, fuck everyone who isn't us remember?' Cersei looked at Jamie, everyone hated her, she knew that but not him, never Jamie. Slowly a smile formed on her lips, not a smile of glee at killing her enemies, not one of pride. No this was simply a smile, she was loved. He was the only one, Not Robert, not father, no one but him. Jamie smiled as well 'we have work to do, The Martell's and Tyrells, we'll start with them, then we'll kill everyone who stands against us'

Then a voice echoed throughout the room

'I believe I can help with that'

They turned to see a man with black hair and a devilish smile on his face, grinning the man spoke,

'My name is Euron Greyjoy and I believe we can help each other'


	5. Bran 1

Bran 1

'aaahh'

Bran gasped at what he had just witnessed, Jon! How could it be? Jon was the son of Aunt Lyanna? But it didn't make sense. If Jon was Lyanna's son, then why did father claimed him as his own, a bastard? Wait. Lyanna had said 'Robert will kill him if he finds out?' that makes no sense? What possible reason would King Robert have for wanting to kill Jon? Bran remembered all the stories of Rhaegar, father had never spoken of him, neither had mother. Bran thought of Ser Arthur Dayne, the sword of the morning. Bran had always admired his father for defeating him, the legendary knight defeated by his father. But now he knew the truth, stabbed in the back, by Meera's father no less. It was almost funny, the woman he had fallen in love with was the daughter of the man who saved his father from the knight he admired most.

'heh'

Bran laughed, the Bards would have a field day with this knowledge.

'ARRGH'

Bran screamed out in pain, what was happening? What was going on? Bran felt his head smash against the dirt, he must have had some sort of spasm attack? Darkness was taking over his eyes, the only thing he could see was Meera screaming at him. If he lived through this, Bran swore to himself that he would confess his love to her. Though, as darkness took him over, he doubted that would ever be possible.

Bran woke up. He found himself standing in a castle, it was familiar and yet somewhat different. After a few moments, the truth hit him harder than Robert's Warhammer, he was in Winterfell. But this made no sense? It was Winterfell and at the same time it wasn't? All it's defining features were here, but everything else was different, seven hells! Even the landscape was different?

'Eddard!'

Bran spun around, Father! Was he here? A large man approached, he was clad entirely in armour, only his face could be seen, which was not much since most was covered by a fantastic beard. Bran had always been jealous of Robb and Jon's facial hair, though he kept that to himself.

'Have you no honour?'

Bran turned, figures hidden from Bran until now had become visible. Before him stood two knights, completely covered in Stark armour and in between them, kneeling on the floor was a young man, no older than Robb. The kneeling man was grinning, his whole face and chest were covered in bruises, however he seemed to find the whole thing funny. The man spat out a glob of blood and gunk, then he laughed, using the weight of the knights holding him to slightly raise himself up.

'What's the matter brother? You look upset?'

The large man approached his brother, though most of his face was covered in a beard Bran could see a look of extreme anger on his face. For a few moments he stood in front of the kneeling man, then with just his fingers he gestured for the knights to release him. The kneeling man would have fallen face first into the floor but he managed to stop himself with his arms. He continued laughing

'This is a new side of you brother! I like it'

The bearded man was no longer unable to restrain himself, Bran watched as the knight dived towards the other and began mercilessly bludgeoning the man in the face. Bran saw it all, the first punch resulted in a crack, he had broken the others nose, the second punch smashed into his jaw, which sent two or three of his teeth flying out of his mouth. The bearded knight screamed at him,

'WHY NED? WHY DID YOU DO IT? TELL ME WHY!'

Ned? Bran was shocked, this man shared the same name as his father? Admittedly it shouldn't have been to startling, Eddard was a common Stark name and there had been more Brandon's then even he could remember. Ned, despite having been beaten nearly to the point of death started laughing.

'HAHAHA, is that it? Is that all you can do? The mighty Brandon Stark, Come one brother! You can do better than that, COME ON! FIGHT ME! HIT ME! IT DOESN'T MATTER!'

The Eddard Stark in front of Bran continued to laugh, Brandon Stark shoved his brother back into the dirt. Bran looked at his forefather, despite most of his face being covered by his great beard his emotions were clear as day. Bran saw the same face father had when just before he had executed that deserter. Pain. For a long moment Brandon Stark was quiet, then after taking a deep breath of air he spoke.

'I Brandon of the House Stark, King and Lord of Winterfell exile you from this land, you shall go and serve the Nights Watch from this day, until your last'

Eddard Stark laughed at this even harder and then out of nowhere summoned the strength to jump forward and embrace his brother. Ned held his brother tightly in a hug and then before Brandon could break apart he spoke

'The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword'

And then, much to Bran's horror, Eddard looked straight at him, his eyes began turning into an icy blue. He smiled devilishly and spoke

'WINTER IS COMING!'

Then Bran watched as his forefather's hair began falling off, his handsome Stark face began shifting and turned a cold blue. Horns began pointing out of his head.

'ARRRRGHHHH'

Bran fell to the floor clutching his arm in pain, his arm burned, not with heat, but with cold, an icy burn radiated throughout all of Brans body. And then nothing. Bran looked up and saw nothing but sky. Standing up what he saw terrified him even more. Bran was now in an empty field covered in ice. The entire area was littered with corpses, but for one man. Bran saw that it was none other than Eddard Stark, the very same man that his forefather Brandon had been beating not a few seconds ago. But something was different? He was standing looking confident, sword in hand and dressed completely in black. Eddard shouted

'COME ON THEN YOU CUNTS! BRING IT ON! I'LL HAVE YOU! I HAVE THE LOT OF YOU!'

Bran then saw who he was shouting at, it was an entire army of White Walkers. But for some reason they remained motionless. However, these were none like the Walkers he had seen before, whole most had resembled wrinkly old creatures, these were something else. There was only one word that Bran could think of to describe them,

'…Beautiful'

The White Walkers before him were breath taking, they were like nothing he had ever seen. Skin flawless and immaculate like diamonds, Hair elegant and fitting, and their eyes, those wondrous blue eyes, like the sky. And then, he saw her. The White Walkers slowly parted only to reveal the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Bran dropped to his knees, something was wrong, he could barely breath. He had to know her had to say something, NO! He could no longer live without her! He needed her!

'BRAN COME BACK!'

What was that? NO! They were only trying to distract him from his love,

'BRAN COME BACK I NEED YOU!'

Bran walked forward, he needed her, but what was that other noise?

'BRAN PLEASE! I NEED YOU! I LOVE YOU!'

'MEERA!'

The memory of Meera burned into his mind, melting the ice. Bran snapped back, he hadn't even realized but he was covered in ice. When? How? What? But before any of these questions could be answered an arm reached out and grabbed him.

'BRAN!'

Bran attempted to pull away, but the arm held him tight, but everything was alright, he was safe. Bran could feel himself waking up. Regardless the arm held on tight.

'BRAN PLEASE!'

Bran was unable to ignore this, turning he looked at who held him, and in front of his eyes was his forefather Eddard Stark.

'BRAN! IT'S YOU! IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU! YOU HAVE TO SAVE THEM! FIND? YOU HAVE TO STOP ********************! PLEASE BRAN YOU HAVE TO STOP…****ME!

Bran could barely make out his words, and then he watched in horror as the beautiful ice woman wrapped her arms around him and right before his very eyes his forefather Eddard Stark was transformed into the Nights King.

Bran woke up with cry, Meera was cradling him in her arms, tears were falling down her face.

'Bran are you alright?'

Bran gasped for a few moments

'Meera! Yes, I'm fine'

Meera sniffed for a second and then punched him square in the nose,

'stop FUCKING scaring me like that'

Bran clutched his nose, he was bleeding, then he remembered his promise, with his right arm he pulled her in and kissed her. They stayed like this for a few moments enjoying a small moment of happiness. After a while they broke apart. Unfortunately, all good things…, Bran remembered everything.

'MEERA! WE HAVE TO GO! WE HAVE TO FIND-

Hope you guys liked this chapter please review and everything, this was a personal fav chap to write hope you guys are enjoying it cos the shit is about to hit the fan.


	6. Arya 1

sorry for the late update, will try to update quicker, this is the third time I've had to write this chapter from scratch, been traveling, lost data, all that bollocks. enjoy, please like and review

Arya was in a great fucking mood. Seriously, killing Walder Frey had felt fucking amazing. And his face? His fucking face, when he realized what he'd eaten, fucking priceless.

"God"

The only thing that had left a small, albeit negligible taste in her mouth was how easy it had been. The Frey sons, those stupid fucking idiots, Arya had hoped for a least some form of challenge. But no, like the cunts they were, the two brothers had spent the night arguing over who was going to fuck a whore first, then they'd fought over whose cock was bigger, before passing out drunk on the beds, like kittens after a warm bowl of milk.

A quick slice to the throat and the job was done, seriously, the only difficult part had been baking the actual pie itself. Something to think on, Arya thought to herself. Killing people was one thing, and poison was a handy tool. But she didn't want to fuck up a kill, simply because she couldn't bake, what if a lord didn't like the look of it? Spat it out before they could ingest the poison?

Sansa may have been "a proper lady" but at least ladies knew how to bake, ah well, she could always learn it later, plenty of time after all. Besides, Cersei was her next victim, honestly Arya had gotten some of the best night's sleep thinking of the numerous ways in which to kill her. At first she'd considered killing a dwarf and feeding it to her, but there was cons. Firstly there was the possibility that she might; like it. She had, after all always hated Tyrion and she wouldn't want the queens last thoughts to be happy ones, not to mention "been there done that" granted not with a dwarf but the principle was still the same. Then there was the option of letting loose an actual lion, watching it rip her to shreds with the delicious tinge or irony. But once again Arya was worried Cersei might take pleasure in that, not to mention it would be seriously difficult getting a lion for the job, not impossible, but the payoff didn't match the effort.

At the moment, Arya was playing with the idea of doing something with gold, drowning her in a tub of molten gold was a personal favourite, but it still suffered the same problem as the last two. She loved her children? Maybe she could do something with that? Questions for later.

Once, just before she had arrived at Westeros, a nasty thought had wormed its way into her mind, what would she do after her revenge? Visiting Jon was at the top of the list, had to do that, it would be nice to see family again. Arya remembered how, on one of Sansa's name days, mother had banished Jon to clean up horse shit while everyone else partied like it was the summer of summers. Arya missed her mother more than words could express, but part of her could never forgive how she had treated Jon. More than once she had seen it, that glint of disgust in her mother's eye and how much pain it had always caused Jon. Maybe she could help find Jon's mother? It would be difficult no doubt, but worth it, if there was ever a quest that was worthy of being called a "quest" finding Jon's mother would no doubt be on the list.

However, there was one other concern that tugged on Arya's heartstrings. Whether her friends were all safe and alive, Fat boy…Gendry. NO!

Above all Arya couldn't stand it when "he" entered her thoughts, she didn't care! She absolutely didn't care! He had killed her friend, Mickon….no wait Mychat….no no no, wait it was Mycah!

Fuck…

No matter how hard she tried, Sandor Clegane always held a place in her mind. How could a man, capable of so much evil, earn her…sympathy? Fuck, she hated even thinking the word. But try as much as she could, her throat always tightened when she thought of him.

"your brother gave you that sword, my brother gave me this!"

He had pointed at his scar, he hated it, he hated himself, he hated the world. It was one thing to hate, villains hated, villains were quintessentially evil in goal and desires. But she'd come to learn that behind the marked hound, howling at the world, biting for scraps, there was at least…honour.

"Good name"

that other female night had liked the name of Needle, Arya had liked her for a while, till she learned the truth. How could a Knight, a servant of justice, sworn to her mother? Work for someone like Jamie Lannister? Own a Lannister sword? If someone could swear a vow and be such a bullshitter, then fuck knights, fuck em all.

"aye, that's what I'm doing"

Sandor Clegane was many things, but out of all the people she had known in her life, only three had treated her with truth and appropriate respect. Sandor had been the third.

Pushing thoughts of Sandor out of her mind Arya was near the next inn, a few meters before she arrived a man bumped into her. Turning she saw a man with one eye grin at her,

"My apologies little wolf, having only one eye can blind a man to the most obvious of things"

Arya was eager to leave, the risk of being recognized was too strong, however that "little wolf" comment? Was it a coincidence? Or a layered pseudonym? Arya decided to play the fool, her youth often aided her when wanted to go unnoticed.

"forgive me ser, my mind was elsewhere"

"oh I'm sure little one, I'm sure, best bring your mind back though, Winter has come after all"

Fuck! Again, was this a veiled threat? Had she been recognized? Granted she was in the North, winter had indeed arrived, but there was something about this man. The way he smiled, it was like he knew your deepest darkest secrets. Before she could inquire further the man took his leave. Before he disappeared into the forest he called out

"careful little one, storms a coming"

and with that he disappeared. Arya seriously considered following him, perhaps he was a drunken fool, perhaps something more? No! she had set a path for herself, the man's words could be addressed later. Entering the Inn, she saw a few men sitting in huddled silence, one of them, like the other, though not nearly as handsome, had only one eye. Too her delight they gave her no regard, and resumed eating a drinking in hushed tones, while she took a seat at a nearby table. Then a voice called out

"what can I get for you m'lady?"

Arya looked up and gasped, that strong structure, toned jawline, and eyes, blue…like ice. With a voice that was barely above a whisper she spoke,

"Gendry?"

However, before he could respond another voice came from behind,

"I told you, I'd give you one chance to kill me"

Arya turned around to see Sandor Clegane, if only for a moment before his giant fist connected with her face.


End file.
